


Castle's Tall Tower

by Ganheim



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Non-Graphic Violence, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 19:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16708483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ganheim/pseuds/Ganheim
Summary: When a mouthy, troubled teen arrives in Tokyo with a record, he stops for an umbrella on the way to Shujin. With that, he meets Ann and goes to school with her, missing Ryuji. Meeting Shiho and Mishima, Akira ends up with a different, horrifying introduction to the Metaverse and Kamoshida's desires.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a slight AU. Kurusu Akira is a mouthy, troubled kid. Before going to Shujin High School for his first day of school in Tokyo, he bought an umbrella. Because of the different timing, he meets Ann earlier and goes to school with her instead of Ryuji and entirely bypasses meeting Ryuji and Kamoshida on that first day.

Persona 5

Wednesday, 13 April 2016

Afternoon

Shujin, Gym

 

The rubber of fresh sports shoes squeaked against polished wood panel flooring. For lack of anything better to do, Akira scrolled through the mobile version of the school’s website for any sign of who leaked his record.

Somebody in a male gym uniform plopped to the floor next to him, his scratchy voice blurting, “Hey, you’re that guy sprinting at Inokashira.”

Akira looked over at the student next to him, his eyes shooting to the dyed-blonde hair. While the hair screamed ‘delinquent desperate for attention’, he remembered that undeclared race yesterday. Anybody that good at running deserved recognition if just for the running itself. He slipped his phone into a pocket to turn his full attention to the strange student choosing to sit next to the ‘dangerous criminal’. “And you were that red shirt.” He raised a few fingers in a tiny wave. “You’ve got some serious speed and endurance.”

“Ryuji,” bad dye-job said with a modest shrug that ran counter to his delinquent appearance. He leaned back against the painted brick wall. “And I’m not as good as I was before. Used to be on the track, before Master Asshole there,” he gave a nod at Kamoshida, weaving between teachers in the ongoing game, “destroyed the team.” A snarl pulled Ryuji’s lip up, exposing pointed teeth and a familiar hate. “Couldn’t take any competition with his precious volleyball.” After a moment, Ryuji tore his glare from Kamoshida and loosened up as he focused on Akira. “I guess you’re that transfer student.”

“Akira,” he said with a nod before leaning closer to stage whisper, “Just to warn you, I’m even _scarier_ than the rumors.”

Ryuji snorted, but a smile split his face.

A larger movement than before drew Akira’s attention to the game. Kamoshida made a leap taking him almost a meter off the floor. Something passed over the coach’s face – a snarl? A feral grin? – too quickly for Akira to judge, but his eyes locked onto one of the students and he spiked the ball straight into the class representative’s face.

Akira leapt to his feet. “Mishima-san!” He dashed to the fallen student. When Kamoshida ducked under the net, Akira repositioned to put himself between the coach and his classmate.

Kamoshida looked down at the bruised student. “Is he all right?”

Mishima stirred under the would-be chiropractor. A faint groan leaked out of the class representative’s mouth. Mishima’s eyes clenched, then opened and gazed up, unfocused.

Akira let out a relieved breath. “He’s bleeding. He hit his head and was unconscious for at least a few seconds. I think he may have a concussion.”

“Take him to the nurse,” Kamoshida snapped before turning back to the court.

Akira’s fists clenched and his legs tensed to stand and unleash retribution on the callous coach when Mishima reached out, balance wobbly.

The transfer student slung Mishima’s arm around his shoulder and stood. “C’mon, Mishima, talk to me.” His eyes traced over fading yellowed splotches as well as bruising he hadn’t seen since he got into street brawls even before Inuri High. “Damn, are you sure you just got hit with one ball? You look like you went ten rounds with the big K.” He angled for the door. “Do you know where you are?”

Mishima slipped and his head lolled to one side. “Coaching?”

Akira pulled until Mishima stood on his own legs. “Hey, stay on your feet. One foot in front of the other.” Once they got moving, he smiled in relief. “There you go.” They passed through the doors and into the deserted hallways. “Do you know what day it is?”

Mishima let his head fall forward, eyes clenched shut. “No more.”

Concerned about the lack of cognitive communication, Akira couldn’t keep his volume from rising. “Talk, Mishima. Stay conscious.” He grit his teeth, before admitting under his breath, “C’mon, I don’t actually know how to treat head injuries.”

“I…” Mishima flinched, but at least maintained pace. “No. Just don’t hurt Shi-chan.”

Akira froze, the door to the nurse’s office looming mere steps away. He looked at Mishima’s injuries, the bruises on his hands and arms. “Oh my God. Has he been doing this to you because you and Suzui are a couple?”

Mishima’s eyes cracked open, unfocused, then slipped closed again and he flinched away. “Th… the special coaching…”

Flashes of bandages and haunted gazes on no few male students passed before Akira’s eyes. “What kind of…” His teeth ground. “How has he not been reported and fired yet?”

Mishima picked his head up, eyes focusing on Akira. “Transfer?” He jerked, then tried to pull away and vomited on the tile floor.

Akira scrambled to get him into the nurse’s office, a heavyset woman looking up at them from the desk inside. “Possible concussion,” the transfer student explained in a no-nonsense tone. “Volleyball hit his face and the back of his head hit the ground. He’s only starting to regain lucidity and threw up just outside the door.”

The nurse reached for a pen light in a drawer. “Was he unconscious?”

“Ten to fifteen seconds,” Akira yielded his class rep to a chair next to her desk. “And still pretty out of it the three-ish minutes it took to walk him here.”

Finished checking his pupil reaction, she pulled on gloves and shone the light into his hair. “Thank god this one was only that long.”

Akira’s breath caught in his mouth for a moment before he blurted, “ _Only_?” His hands curled into fists. “Concussions can result in permanent behavioral and learning disabilities. He needs to be at a hospital!”

The nurse kept her eyes on Mishima and continued scanning his scalp. “Leave the medicine to us, honey.”

He stepped closer anyway, tone rising. “If he takes another head injury like that, it could do _worse_ than kill him! Do you _want_ a mental vegetable at this school?”

Mishima’s unswollen eye widened and his face paled.

“Don’t you worry about it,” the nurse demanded, still bent over the bruised student. “He just needs some rest.”

Akira fought to keep from swinging at her. “How many other people had to be escorted in here after _special_ coaching?”

The nurse stood straight, eyes shooting left and right before looking away from Akira. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Akira ground his teeth together. “Then you condemn the next person to even worse!” Fists trembling, he stormed out and stomped around the vomit. “I need answers, and there are only two people who’ll give them to me.”

Two students gossiping at the side of the hall stared at him but failed to wait until after he passed out of earshot to return to their conversation. “I heard he almost killed someone.”

“I heard he’s working for those thugs in Shibuya.”

Akira stalked through the halls, thrusting his hands in his pockets to resist the urge to throw a punch at the next morons who bandied rumors behind his back. With more students coming out of their games, the halls started to sound more like normal. At last, he spotted a flash of natural blond and broke into a run after Ann, bulling past a girl with a braid-style hairband.

She shot him a glare, but he ignored her in favor of catching up with Shiho and Mishima’s mutual friend. Finally reaching her just before the opening to the third floor, he snagged Ann’s wrist.

She whipped around at him, her other hand raised to swing back at him. When she realized it was him, her hand dropped and her stance relaxed but her glare held some heat. “What do you want?”

“I want some straight answers for once,” Akira snapped back. He let go of her hand and both glowered at each other like yakuza daring the other to draw the knife first. “When I took Mishima to the nurse’s, I spotted a _lot_ more bruises than any sports practice.” His eyes narrowed. “Somebody’s using him as a punching bag.”

“He’s…” Ann’s eyes fell away and her fists tightened. “No, Shiho’d tell me if somebody was going after him.”

“Would she?” He leaned even closer, which only brought his eyes lower given the step she stood on. He tried to ignore the prominent chest right in front of his thick glasses. “Would she tell you everything about some guy she’s,” Akira clapped his hands flat together, “that tight with? Maybe even _that_ way?”

Ann’s posture regained its confident hostility. “She… We’re best friends, have been since middle school.” Her eyes, which had been boring a hole through his, slid to the wall. “She works so hard and I can’t… I can’t mess up something she loves almost as much as, maybe even more than Yuuki.”

Alliance Force Assemble sang out of his phone and Akira whipped it out to cut the call, snarling, “Shut up!” Fumbling to put it back, something red came on the screen before he shoved it back in his pocket and looked Ann in the eye. “Who would be that against her being romantically involved?”

Ann turned a little further away and she crossed her arms. “I don’t know if it’s about _her_ , but…” Her lip curled into a snarl and her hands fisted again. “Kamoshida.”

Akira blinked, unable to place the name. “Excuse me?”

She turned to him, eyes blazing with fury and posture all set to fight. “Kamoshida Suguru.”

A twang sounded from his phone, but he held gaze with the angry young woman in front of him. “What, does he have an iron-fisted rule here in Shujin Academy?”

Another twang played, and only seemed to make her more pissed off. Her sneer grew, and her fisted hands swung down to her sides. “You don’t know anything about that pervert. It’s not just Mishima.” She took a step down to him, almost nose-to-nose now. “ _Everybody_ here is like some… serf in his own private castle.”

Another twang played, but before either one could say anything, a computerized voice stated, “Match found. Target Asmodeus. Beginning navigation.”

Both of them queried in confusion. Red swam before Akira’s eyes and the world twisted like a collapsing acid trip. A grandiose, carpeted spiral staircase replaced the efficient, squared stairwell. Anger at her bleeding through even as he stared at the stonework, he snapped, “Wha? Where is this?”

“That’s what _I_ want to know,” she shot back with no less anger. She crossed her arms and glared. “Did you drug me?”

Akira whirled on her fist cocked back before he caught himself. He snarled, “Oh, don’t flatter yourself, _princess_.” He glanced up and down. “Where’s the door to the hallway?”

Ann leaned down over the railing to peer into the dark below, then up. “I don’t see any light down that way, but I do see something up there,” she pointed.

Akira blinked and forced his fists to open. “Shouldn’t that be the roof?”

“If it was the school,” she snapped at him as she turned for the stairs up. “Does this really look like Shujin?”

Grumbling, Akira followed her up the stairs as they spiraled up much higher than Shujin before opening to an ornate hall with whitewashed walls and a polished stone tile floor covered with a thick, red, hall-length rug. Glistening sunlight streamed in through giant windows, but something about the angle set off alarm bells. “Is it really getting to twilight already?”

Ann spun on him, hands on her hips. “We’re in some weird-ass palace and you’re worried about the _time_?”

Akira advanced on her, doing nothing to hide the snarl pulling at his lip. “I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on by any clues I can pick up.” He pointed at the windows. “That’s not early afternoon sunlight.”

With neither having anything else to say, they advanced to a three-meter-tall polished oak door. When Ann hesitated, Akira felt his own confidence waning and burst inside just to keep her from seeing his hand shaking.

Soft reds, pinks, and browns dominated the expansive room. Scattered around with a total lack of neatness lay oversized pillows and the girl’s volleyball team in various states of undress.

Ann’s anxious meekness vanished and her trembling hands curled into fists as she stomped after him. “What the hell is this?”

Akira threw up his hands defensively. “Don’t look at me! I’m a cuddler, not a groper.”

One of the girls gave a sensual moan and batted a curled hand at him with a hooded, expectant gaze that made him glad Shujin’s gym uniform had baggy pants. He jerked away.

Ann, scanning the room, froze. Her eyes snapped wide and her face paled. “Sh-Shiho?”

“Huh?” Akira said, following her gaze to a round waterbed near the center of the opulent room.

Suzui Shiho crawled to the edge of the waterbed on all fours, wearing nothing but tight gym shorts. Locking eyes with Ann, she sat back on her heels for a moment. “It’s the princess!” The volleyball player threw herself backwards on the waterbed with a happy groan, her breasts jiggling at the impact. “He must be pleased if he’s going to take us all today.”

Ann gaped, her face stricken with horror and fear, but her posture screaming rage. “Shiho! What are you doing?”

Shiho pouted for a moment, then her eyes slid to Akira. She gave a sultry grin and reclined on her side, displaying every curve. “Did the king send you to get us ready?”

Ann shot a look to her side, spotting an Akira still frozen in fascinated horror. She snapped, “Don’t look, you pervert!”

“I’m not!” he protested, then slammed one hand over his eyes. Fighting just to control his breathing, he shouted, “Would somebody just tell me what’s going on?”

Shiho turned a hooded gaze to Ann but remained spread out across the edge of the bead. “You’re not here just to show off, are you? Just because you’re his favorite…”

Ann jerked away, one hand grabbing the two sides of her gym jacket closed even as a blush spread across her horror-stricken face. “W-w-what?”

Akira took a single stomp towards the bed, hand still clamped over his glasses. His other hand clenched in a white-knuckled fist, he roared, “What the hell is going on?”

The doors burst open, and an enormous man decked out in metal armor strode in. Gasps echoed from the girls as they scrambled to the walls to give him a wide path to Akira.

Ignoring them, the knight looked at the students in Shujin gym uniforms. “Who dares to intrude in the king’s pleasure chambers?” His gaze stopped on Ann. “Princess? What is My Lady doing outside His personal chambers?”

“Princess?” Scandalized, she turned the full force of her sexy anger on the plated man. “ _Personal_ chambers?”

The knight sheathed his sword and trotted up to Ann, reaching a hand out. “Come with me, My Lady. I shall escort you back to His Highness’ bedchambers.”

Akira hopped between them, shoving at the knight’s arm and having about the effect of a stiff breeze. “The hell are you taking her any—”

The knight backhanded him with a very solid metal gauntlet, sending Akira spinning and blood flying from his split lip. As Akira caught himself on the edge of the waterbed, the knight loomed, “Know your place, slave. If you’re not in the Training Hall of Love, you should be doing only the task His Highness ordered you.”

Shiho crawled to him and brushed his hair out of his eyes now that his glasses weren’t there to obstruct his gray gaze. She cooed, “It’s useless to resist. Aren’t we all here at the pleasure of the king?”

Face still smarting and head still pounding from the blow, he stumbled back in between the armored man and Ann. “Get away from Takamaki-san and Suzui-san.” Eyes remaining locked on the knight, Akira ground out to the girls, “Go on, get out of here.”

“Insolent knave!” The gauntlet snapped forward, grabbing Akira by the throat and lifting him off his feet. “The king deserves all things. You should be pleased to be permitted to serve him.”

Gagging against the crushing grip, the transfer student slammed his fists against the solid metal.

“Akira!” Ann cried out. After a moment to settle her stance, she shoulder-slammed the knight, bouncing off him. She rubbed her shoulder against the sensation of having rammed a wall.

The knight glared down at her. “You wait your turn, princess. It shall be your honor to service the king later.”

Spots forming in his vision, the blows of Akira’s fists weakened.

“Do you yet understand, slave?” the knight snarled. “If you cannot serve the king by pleasure, you shall serve him by pain!” It hurled the boy to the ground.

He crumpled, curling up and coughing. Flecks of blood dirtied the tile floor.

“Akira!” Her hand still holding her shoulder, Ann took a step to him, then stopped and turned back to her friend. “Shiho, come on! We can save you! Just come with us!”

The room darkened and both schoolkids cringed when harsh voices floated at them from no-where.

“If you can’t do it, you’re useless!”

“Nothing matters if it doesn’t succeed.”

Akira struggled to his knees, still bracing on his hands, and coughed. Flecks of blood flew from his split lip. He brought a hand to his head, grimacing against a pounding, burning pain.

“Hey, look,” a boy’s voice mocked. “It’s the lab freak’s son. You gonna lock us in a dark, scary place and make monsters come out of us?”

“ _Thou art I_ ,” a deep but calm voice said through the swirl of accusations.

“Everything you touch gets ruined!”

Akira clenched both hands over his head, his breathing ragged and feeling like millions of hot needles stabbed him all over.

“Stay away from that troublemaker,” a woman’s voice snapped. “Those types will only drag you down.”

“ _I am thou_ ,” the calm voice cut through the storm of accusations again.

“Useless boy, how can anybody take you seriously if you make mistakes in such petty things?”

Fingers already sliding through his hair, his hands clamped tight and he pulled, desperate to let out the searing pain and impossible pressure in his skull. Arching his back, he howled in agony to the ceiling.

“You’re a monster born from a monster!”

“There is no buddha,” a high man’s voice spat, “or god or anything out there to save you. If anything pulls us from the coming ruin, it shall be _me_ and _my_ research!”

Slammed with a sudden numbness, Akira’s hands slid away from his head and fell to his side. “And God went ahead of his people in a pillar of darkness during the day to shelter them and a pillar of fire during the night to guide them.”

Hot winds whipped through the ostentatious room. Deep red flames licked over his face, leaving a mask. Reaching up at the sudden sensation of weight, Akira pulled at the mask and his own skull tipped forward. Bringing up both hands, he dug his fingers in as the pounding inferno in his head returned with a vengeance. Desperate, he heaved at the mask, blood dripping down his cheeks. Screaming in pain, he ripped the mask off.

Red fire roared over his body, leaving a high-necked longcoat. The swirling winds whipped into a scalding gale, sending pillows hurling through the air and the knight crashing all the way against the wall by the door.

The knight pushed itself to its feet and drew its sword. “What manner of trick is this?”

A vortex of darkness and flame churned between them, as if fire and black smoke condensed into a near-liquid density and twisted into a pillar rising all the way to the vaulted ceiling.

Akira stood, a calming numb spreading over him. “Pillar of Heaven, destroy our enemies!”

Hot winds whipped around, sending pillows tumbling again, but concentrated on the knight. Darkness gathered under the armored man and roared up in a torrent, leaving dissolving black smoke.

The pillar vanished into the ceiling and Akira collapsed to the tile.

“Akira!” Ann shouted, dashing forward to help him off the floor.

Akira blinked and turned a bleary gaze to her. “Is he gone? Are we safe?”

Confused beyond anger, she retorted, “You idiot!” She clamped a hand on his arm to hold him up. “What the hell was that? You scared me to death.”

Akira swayed, but forced himself to stand on his feet. “What exactly happened?” He looked around the cavernous room edged in gold. “What happened to the girls?”

“Shiho!” Ann spun around, her foot taking a step to the waterbed of its own accord. Scorch marks marred the floor in jagged lines spiraling out from where the pillar formed. Gaping for a long moment, when she spoke her soft voice was filled with trepidation. “She… they’re all gone.”

Akira, realizing something about himself felt different, reached to his face. Hissing in pain, he tried again, avoiding the part of his face still pulsing from the gauntleted back-hand. Fingers coming to his cheekbone, they ran up, then around his mask. His eyes snapped open and he let out a gasp. “My glasses!”

Ann glanced down, snatching them up and presenting the split frames to him. “Easy, they’re right—”

Continuing to explore the mask with his gloved fingertips, a smile split his face. “I can still see!” When she lifted the glasses up at him again, he took them anyway. Turning to the door back out, he took one step and wobbled.

Ann caught his arm to steady him again. Raising an eyebrow, she set her free hand on her hip.

Catching her silent inquiry, Akira answered, “Takamaki, I’m nearsighted like you wouldn’t believe. I’m practically blind without my glasses.” His grin grew wider, revealing the even rows of his pearly whites. “Or I _should_ be.” Shaking his head, he wavered more and leaned against her support. After slipping his broken glasses in his pocket, he turned back to the tall oak door. “Well, there’s no other way out of this room and the girls are gone. I say we bug out before another one of those knights comes in."

“But… Shiho,” Ann started, eyes unfocused as she paced alongside him. “I put up with so much for her sake.” The corners of her eyes glistened. “How could she…?”

Taking his head in his hands, Akira let out a groan. “None of this is right.” Walking, he paused to pull the door open, then stepped out on his own. Besides the rug, nothing interrupted the hallway from the stairs to a shorter, gold-plated door further down. “So, back to the stairs and hope down goes somewhere? Or out those gold-lined doors?” He paused and looked down the hand he just pointed with, specifically the red glove. “Did you change me?”

She left a hand on her hip. “You did that.”

“I don’t remember that.” Looking down, he checked out his current garb and smiled. “Oh, man. The old bastard would flip if he knew I had a swankier longcoat than he did.”

She spared him just a quick glance. “I guess it’s not a bad style. For you.” Ann lifted a finger to her chin. “Oh, I just had an idea.” Jerking both hands up in fists, she shouted at the top of her lungs, “Let’s get out of here!”

Leading him to the stairs, they heard metal clacking up the long, winding stone. Turning around, they both bolted the other way down the hall.

Three knights came out just before they reached the red oak door again. One pointed its gauntleted hand. “Intruder!”

Another drew its sword. “He’s trying to abscond with the princess.”

Racing as fast as they could run, both students reached the gold-plated doors and hauled them open, dashed in, and slammed the doors closed. Panting, both collapsed against the doors for several seconds.

Looking around, Akira wrinkled his nose at the gaudy space. Three walls glistened with mirror from floor to ceiling, and all across the length. A giant canopy bed dominated the center, gossamer curtains flapping in the breeze from an open window.

Akira spit at the bed. “And I thought the old bastard was tacky.”

A bang sounded through the door and both students froze. Akira pressed his ear against the door.

“I’m not going in His Highness’ chambers, _you_ go in!” one of the knights whined.

Ann trotted to the wall with windows and closed the open one, slowing as she looked at the dozens on dozens of portraits of girls on the wall. Some were edged with silver, some framed in gold. Coming to a stop, she snatched a silver one off the wall as her face contorted in anger. “What the hell? I’ve never worn a slingshot bikini!”

Covering his nose just in case, Akira approached to confirm the wall was covered with photos of the girls’ volleyball team in provocative swimsuits and lingerie. While all of them smiled, the eyes of many remained tense with fear.

Ann gasped, then ripped a gold-framed portrait off the wall. “Kiriko-senpai!”

“Who?” Akira said, coming closer.

Ann clutched the portrait against her chest and turned away from Akira. “She was one of the volleyball starters last year. Everybody loved her. She was smart, and beautiful…” She turned back to Akira, looking down at the picture. “Then overnight she became a recluse. Just stopped talking to everyone. She transferred out at the end of the semester.” Her brow furrowed. “A lot of her clubs disbanded.”

Ann hurled the pictures in her hands to the floor, earning the sound of broken glass. “Who would do something like this?”

Akira blinked, his eyes drawn to a gold-framed photo of Shiho, giving a come-hither gesture while wearing lacy lingerie that hid almost none of a bust that seemed larger than he remembered when they sat down together in the courtyard.

The golden doors banged open and Kamoshida stepped in, cloaked in a long, red velvet cape and followed by two knights, one in golden armor. The gray knight snarled, “Filthy vermin!”

It slowed a few paces into the room, visor stopping on Ann. “Princess? What are you doing in such rude attire?”

Kamoshida scoffed, the small gold crown on his head sparkling. “How could you mistake _that_ for _my_ Ann?”

Ann’s mouth drifted open. “Ka… Kamoshida-sensei? What have you done with the school?”

Another Ann wearing a micro-bikini came to a stop next to Kamoshida, leaning closer as if begging him to touch her. Akira swallowed, feeling like his own pants shrank.

The Kamoshida in strange garb scoffed at her. “I am king of this castle. I do what I will, and all serve my desires.” He lifted a hand to stroke the scantily-clad Ann’s cheek, revealing nothing beneath his luxuriant cape but a hot pink speedo.

Akira threw himself to his knees, hands over his face. “Oh, God, my eyes! Somebody, please cut out my eyes!”

Smile falling to a thin line, Kamoshida glanced to the gray knight. “You, execute him.” Flicking his eyes to the knight clad in gold, he threw out, “You, take her.”

Goldie sheathed its large knife and turned to Ann. Akira interposed between them, a snarl on his face. “Like hell you will.” When the gray knight kept closing with sword drawn, he paced backwards and attempted bluster. “You really think you can take me one-on-one?”

The gray knight stopped and shuddered as if caught in a seizure, joints jerking and black oozing out of the joints in its armor. Moments after the armor was covered in the flowing muck, it burst like a bloody pustule. In its place were three creatures. The first, a blindfolded woman with birdlike wings and straps covering strategic points on her body.

The second had a carved pumpkin in place of a head, a bright yellow fire burning within the head as well as the iron lantern dangling from its left hand. Dark, heavy but ragged robes flapped from the air currents of its transformation.

The third Akira would have called a snapping tortoise if it weren’t for the long, orange serpentine head extending from where the tail should be.

“Oh, darn,” Akira moaned.

All three creatures advanced on him and Akira fell back towards the wall covered in pictures. He held up a finger at the floating feminine creature. “Okay, I should inform you that if you’re trying to intimidate me, angels didn’t look like some blindfolded bondage fantasy. They’re soldiers. There’s a reason every time they showed up in the Old _and_ New Testament they had to say ‘don’t be afraid’.”

The orange serpent-head opened its toothy maw and snapped down at him.

Throwing himself out of the way, as Akira rolled to his feet he reached inside for that sense of righteous indignation. “Pillar!”

The faux-angel stopped and waved its hands in repetitive gestures, flecks of light appearing and disappearing at its fingertips.

Darkness zipped out from the base of the swirling pillar of darkness and fire, its zig-zagging course bringing it under the false angel where it roared up and disintegrated the monster in dark flecks.

Akira smirked. “I knew it. False images.”

Genbu’s tortoise head snapped at Akira, forcing him back against the wall. The lantern-wielding monster surged sideways, hurling a fireball from its lantern into Pillar.

Still running to keep his distance from the monsters, Akira stumbled with a cry of pain and Pillar shuddered back. Akira straightened on his feet, looking past them to see the gold knight locking Ann’s hands up to a set of handcuffs above her head on the bedpost.

Ann pulled against it. “I’m not a whore!” She kicked the knight in its codpiece.

“Now, now,” King Kamoshida reprimanded, just watching as the knight locked her right leg in a low shackle even as she kicked it with her other. A leer spread over the coach’s face. “What shall I do with you?”

Eyes wide with confusion but blazing with anger, she snapped at him, “You’ve been coming on strong, but this is crazy!”

Smirk spreading into a smile, Kamoshida looked the Ann in a gym uniform up and down. He ran his tongue over his lips. “This slave’s a lively one.”

Akira dove out of the way of an icy explosion, grunting in pain. Pillar surged at the Jack, but it floated back. The Genbu’s dragon head reared up and coughed an ice bolt at Pillar, which dodged out of its path.

Ann jerked with a pained grimace against the gold knight as it locked her other leg. Anger being replaced by desperation, she yelled, “Let me go!”

Kamoshida rubbed his chin, baring his unshaven legs and speedo again. “Talking back. Now what should I do about that?” He reached his arm around the other Ann, hand sliding under her bikini and stopping at the swell of her breast.

The strange Ann clicked her tongue and gazed up at Kamoshida. “That is _totally_ the worst.”

Akira dodged a gloved swing from Jack, which changed targets to shoot another fire bolt into Pillar. The swirling column of fire and black swerved out of a snap from Genbu’s tortoise head.

Kamoshida gave a sage nod. “I think drawing and quartering is in order.” A leering smile split his face. “Start with her clothes.”

Goldie drew its gigantic knife.

Ann pulled against her bonds jerking away from it. “Get away from me, you freaks!”

Kamoshida frowned. “Now, now. That’s not the proper attitude to show a king.”

“That’s not the proper attitude for a king to show!” Akira snarled as he dove away from the Jack. It floated away, frustrated, and lifted its lantern, blazing a seconds-long gout of flame into Pillar. Akira growled in pain and ground his teeth.

Pillar pulsed, emitting a bolt of fire against the Genbu. The tortoise-like monster flinched but held the column in its sights.

Goldie grabbed Ann’s shirt and sliced down through it.

Akira changed direction to head towards her. “Stay away from Takamaki, you son of a bitch!”

Ann jerked one way, then another against the bonds, panting with exertion but failing to budge them.

Kamoshida turned from Ann to Akira, lip curled in a sneer. “I’ve had just about enough out of you, vermin. Isn’t it about time you tire out and die?”

An icy explosion burst, catching Pillar in the detonation. Pillar shuddered, giving Jack an opening to fling an exploding fireball into it. Akira clenched his teeth, collapsing to one knee.

Jack swooped down, wrapping its huge gloved hand around his throat and picking Akira up off the floor.

“No!” The real Ann shouted, still jerking against her bonds, her slashed shirt flapping. “Kamoshida, stop it!”

Akira kicked Jack in the dark fabric covering what should be its chest. The material deformed with the blow and the fire in its carved head flickered, but it held steady. Still able to breathe, he brought his hands together and slammed the combined fist against the glove, only getting a mild twitch.

Genbu’s tortoise head snapped at Pillar, which dodged, but the dragon head sucked in air and glowed with blue. Jack shot a fire bolt into Pillar as the dragon head blasted a long ray of ice into the churning column.

Akira screamed in pain.

“Stop it!” Ann pulled at her bonds, her eyes on Akira as he kicked from half a meter up in the air in the Jack’s grip. “Kamoshida, I’ll…” She stopped, her head falling. She drew in a long breath, seeing her own chest rise, then looked up to the demented coach. “Let him go, and I’ll…” Her eyes fell away.

Kamoshida held up a hand, his smirk back in full force. Genbu retreated a step and Jack lowered its lantern. “Now that’s the sort of look you should’ve had to start with.”

Breathing ragged, Akira kept slamming down on Jack’s glove. Pillar shrank in on itself, retracting into the ceiling.

Leering, Kamoshida reached for Ann’s open shirt, fondling her breast over the dark purple bra.

“No,” Akira shouted, still pounding against Jack’s glove. “Takamaki, even if all you can do is deny the enemy victory, never give in!”

“This _is_ Takamaki we’re talking about,” a girl’s voice floated from no-where.

Kamoshida’s voice floated out of some indeterminate direction, thick with empathy but tinged with expectation. “It must be lonely with your friend spending so much time in practice. Give me your phone number. I’m sure I can find a way to help you out.”

Ann jerked against her bonds, clenching her eyes shut. “No.”

“Sure, she’s got the body. But what’s she willing to give to be a model?”

“Is she really doing Kamoshida? She seems easy, you think I’d have a chance?”

Ann snapped straight, glaring at Kamoshida. “I’m nobody’s toy.” She flinched in a new pain as flames crept up her face, in moments ragged screaming tore from her throat. When the flames ceased, a solid red mask rested over her face.

Kamoshida jerked back and retreated another few steps for good measure. “What is this?”

“I’m not some cheap whore, scumbag!” Ann declared.

“Bitch,” Kamoshida shot back.

Ann tore her bonds from their mountings against the bedpost. Tilting to keep balance, she kicked Goldie, dropping its knife and sending the ostentatious knight tumbling over the floor. Picking up the knife, Ann plunged the gaudy blade into the false Ann, which dissolved in a puff of dark dust. That satisfied, she reached up and tore off the mask with a shriek of agony.

Akira smirked. “You’ve just been out-maneuvered. Pillar of Heaven!” He kicked Jack across the face to make it flinch, twisted, and slammed both feet against the lantern, causing the monster to drop it.

The column of fire and darkness shot out of the ceiling, blasting fire into Genbu, which slumped and dissolved into black and red goo.

“Carmen!” Ann shouted.

A torrent of blue flames exploded out from her, knocking Goldie and Kamoshida away. Breath ragged, she looked over to see Akira still gripped by the Jack diving for its lantern. Casting out a hand, she snarled.

A huge, glowing figure in a frilly dress lashed out a long, thorny whip that cut through Jack’s head, blasting it into dissolving black and red goo.

“Oh, shit!” Kamoshida said before scrambling out the door.

“That,” Goldie said, rising to its feet, “is quite enough of that.”

Shuddering like the throes of a massive seizure, black ooze leaked out and it popped into a towering woman holding Shinto dancing fans, clad in scanty white wrappings too revealing to call a proper kimono.

Akira stumbled closer, sweating and bruises developing on his face. “Pillar of Heaven!”

The column churned between he and the towering woman, shooting it with a bolt of flame.

The bolt splashed against her and vanished without hint of a singe. The woman focused on Ann. “You think you can deny Lord Kamoshida’s love?”

Ann snarled. “Don’t feed me that line when he doesn’t even know what love is. We’re not sexual outlets.”

Carmen lashed out with its whip, wrapping around the towering woman’s neck and sending a howling blizzard’s gale that froze the enemy monster. The frozen figure fell to the floor in front of the door before it suddenly picked up and hurled into the canopy bed, shattering into dissolving black and red goo.

Something between a child and a cat strode into the room, flicking an arm in dismissal. A burly, glowing figure vanished from over its head. “I guess I arrived just in time. You look like you’re on your last legs.”


	2. Chapter 2

Wednesday, 13 April 2016

Afternoon

Location: Unknown

 

Breathing heavy, Ann slid to her knees in the gold-gilded bedchambers of the twisted king. Her eyes locked onto the short, bipedal creature approaching them from the door, she managed, “Wha… what are you?”

The half-meter black and white creature looked over Ann, its eyes widening. “What a meowvelous woman! Fierce and beautiful.”

Ann braced a hand on her knee, only then looking down and noticing her form-fitting red leather bodysuit. Wrapping her arms around herself for all the good it would do, shouted, “What the… when did _this_ happen to my gym uniform?”

The cat-kid held a hand up at her. “That is the shape of your will of rebellion against the injustice of the world.”

Still favoring his left leg, Akira came to a stop just a pace from her. “But… red leather?” When Ann shot to her feet, shoulders back and posed to throw herself into a fight, he raised his hands in surrender. “Not that it doesn’t look good on you.”

“Everybody constructs their lives with the building blocks made available by the world around them,” the catboy said. He gestured at Akira. “Much as you.”

A clatter of plate mail from the door heralded the appearance of a group of gray knights. “There they are!”

“Quick,” catboy snapped, “Follow me!” Drawing a fist-sized canister from his belt, he threw it and smoke billowed.

The sounds of metal charging in rang, but the smoke obscured everything. A voice echoed out of a metal helm, “Where are they?”

Struggling to squint through the dense fog, Akira spotted the diminutive form of catboy and followed him out the door. Pausing, he turned to see Ann at his back. Satisfied both of them were safe enough, he followed catboy to a vent, then through that to a narrow, smudged servant passage.

Once they all stood in relative safety, Akira put his hands on his hips. “So who are you?”

Pausing to glance around warily, catboy looked up at him as if hoping not to say. “I’m Morgana.”

Akira brought his hand to his chest and inclined his head. “Akira.”

“Ann,” she introduced in likewise fashion. Staring out at the narrow corridor, she asked, “What is this castle? What happened to the school?”

Morgana’s ears fell slack against his broad skull. “The school _is_ the castle. This is the distorted reflection of your school in the heart of the palace ruler.”

Akira straightened his longcoat. “Well, you _did_ say Shujin was his own private castle.”

Ann’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean it _literally_!”

Akira focused on Morgana. “But… What about the girls? Especially Suzui? There’s no way a nice girl like that would be caught _dead_ with Kamoshida, much less half-naked in some… pleasure house,” he spit, “and gushing over how wonderful it would be to wait on that shit-head. I know it’s dangerous, but we’ve got to go back and bust ‘em out.”

Morgana tilted his head. “Girls?”

Akira frowned. “He must’ve had the whole female volleyball team there in that gold-caged sex dungeon.”

Ann rolled her eyes. “I think you mixed a few metaphors there.”

“Up yours!” he snarled back.

Hopping up and waving his arms to get their attention, Morgana said, “Whoa! We can’t go back up there. There’s nobody to rescue.”

“The hell there isn’t!” Akira reached for Morgana, who danced out of his grip. “I saw… it must’ve been twenty girls.” A flush of heat spread over his cheeks.

“And that…” Ann shivered. “…look alike.” Her mouth twisted into a grimace. “I’d _never_ wear something like that for Kamoshida.”

Akira stared off. “She sure filled it out.”

Ann glared at him.

“I…” Akira stepped back. “…just noticed…” He pressed a palm against his eye, then hissed and flinched away from the darkening bruise over his face. “I must have foot-in-mouth disease.”

Morgana’s eyes snapped wide. “Oh, I think I understand what girls you’re talking about. Like that cognitive image the Palace ruler had of Lady Ann?”

Now Akira’s eyes grew wide. “Cog… are you telling me they were all cognitive constructs formed from an amalgamation of his conscious and subconscious desires?”

Morgana crossed his arms, his gaze narrowing to slits. When he spoke, his tone was nothing short of accusatory, “You catch on… _very_ fast.”

Akira scratched his neck, eyes on his feet. “I… didn’t exactly have a lot of choice in whether to learn about psychology.”

Ann crossed her arms. “How do _you_ know so much about this place, cat?”

Ruffled, Morgana bared his teeth. “I am _not_ a cat! I am Morgana.” He held up his hands, ears curling down as he flexed his fingers. “The Metaverse has been distorted by something lately. That’s what changed me into… _this_.”

Straightening to try to inject some calm neutrality, Akira looked Morgana in the eye. “When did that happen?”

Morgana looked away, his ears pressing against his skull. “I… don’t know. Maybe it’s because I’ve been here so long, but…” He held his arms down and looked Akira in the eye. “I can’t remember anything from very far back. A matter of months, maybe a year. The distortions that turned me into this also robbed me of most of my memories.”

Akira shoved his hands into his pockets. “Man, I wish I could get that.”

Both Ann and Morgana turned scathing looks on him.

Akira shrugged. “I don’t exactly have a diary full of warm memories.”

Sighing, Morgana waved it aside. “If I could just find the Treasure, I could topple this palace and right at least a little of the distortion.”

“Huh?” Ann blinked, her crossed arms loosening.

“Palaces form when a ruler has a focus of warped desires.” Glancing up, he noticed both costumed teenagers giving him blank looks. “Think of a Treasure like an anchor. It’s a core of their desires. If it gives rise to a Palace, it could even stop them from being able to go anywhere in life, forcing everything to circle around that one primary obstacle in their mind.

Akira blinked, seeing double Morganas and Anns. “Could you four do me a favor? Stop wobbling.”

Ann raised an eyebrow. “Wobbling? We’re both standing still.”

Hot red flames washed over Akira, returning him to his gym uniform, and he fell to his knees.

Morgana maintained a calm, analytic stare. “Huh. I knew he was burning up a lot of energy, but I didn’t know his power was still so unstable.”

Kneeling next to Akira, close enough to see perspiration beading across his skin, Ann glanced back at their short benefactor. “What’s going on?”

Looking her in the eye, Morgana’s held a serious tone. “If that was your first time summoning your Persona, you won’t be far behind. We need to get both of you back to your world, quick.”

Bracing a hand against the wall to come back to his feet, Akira couldn’t find enough strength or coordination to push Ann away. “No argument there.”

Ann looked to Morgana. “Is it because he summoned his Persona three times?”

“Once you’ve awakened, it should just depend on how hard you’re pushing your Persona.” Morgana glanced between them, then his eyes snapped wide open. “Wait, are you saying he just awakened too?”

“Why?”

“That’s _very_ dangerous. I’m surprised you can still _walk_ so soon after calling out your Persona for the first time. If he forced his out _three_ times today,” Morgana opened his mouth, then closed it, then waved his hands in the air. “I don’t even know what could happen. Worse, he’s vulnerable to the palace distortions now.”

Head pounding, Akira grunted. “What’s that mean?”

“That…” Morgana swirled a hand in a circular motion, “outfit you wore. Think of it like armor that protects you from the effects of the palace ruler’s distortion. It’s a reaction of your will against his.”

Akira tilted his head, hammers still pounding the inside of his skull. “So… those threads were how Kamoshida thought of me?”

Morgana shook his head. “No, your appearance is determined by your self-image, as well as your perceptions of how others view you. Now hurry, follow me before you forget you came from the outside.”

Struggling against the headache and rubbery sensation in his knees, Akira followed Morgana to the castle entrance, relying on Ann to steer him in the absence of his glasses. They came to a place much brighter than the halls of the castle, and Ann stopped, staring out. “No way, it’s Tokyo!”

Morgana came to a stop in front of them. “Now you just have to use the same artifact you used to get here and you’ll return to your world.”

Ann threw her fists down to her sides. “We don’t know _how_ we got—”

“Wait,” Akira said, a tinge of elation joining the throbbing headache. “My phone said something before we wound up here.” Digging around, he pulled out his smart phone and stared, baffled, at the bleeding eye icon taking up the screen. “The hell?”

Morgana stood like a sentinel by the vent they used to escape the castle. “Just don’t forget that I helped you when you needed it.”

Ann gave him a serious nod. “Okay.” Refocusing on Akira, holding a hand against his head, she said, “Let’s go home.”

His thumb tapped the screen and the same mechanical voice from earlier read, “Returning to the real world. Thank you for your hard work.”

Red and darkness tore across their vision, but after a blink the bustle of Tokyo stood all around them. At least outside the narrow alley across from the gates of Shujin High. Both struggled to breathe for a moment, shocked at the journey they concluded. Caught up in the euphoria of victory and return, they embraced.

Akira glanced down to see her purple bra peeking out.

Ann glanced down to see her split shirt. Jerking apart, her hand lashed out and slapped across his face.

Akira stumbled back into the air conditioning units, hands going to the one side of his face. His split lip started bleeding again as he let out a moan of pain.

“Sorry!” Ann grabbed her gym jacket and zipped it up. “Look, about that castle fiasco… the things that cat said…”

Akira searched around through every pocket for his glasses until finding the half a frame without a cracked lens. Holding it up over his eye, he turned to Ann. “Morgana. Yeah. We need to check it out again. I know he _said_ they weren’t real, but… if there’s even a _chance_ Shiho’s in danger, I can’t just sit it out.”

Leaning her forearm against the brick wall for support, Ann scanned his face for a few moments, her eyes coming to rest on the purpling bruise on the left side. She took in a deep breath, but something about her pose seemed more relaxed than the transfer student had ever seen her. “You really care about her a lot, don’t you?”

The wistful hint in her voice sent a feeling of fire through his face and he coughed against a tightness in his throat, unable to meet her azure gaze. “N-no! It’s just that… Anybody who would have stuff as sick as that in his head is somebody too dangerous to leave unchecked.”

Letting out a heavy breath, Ann leaned fully against the brick wall opposite Akira. She brought a hand up to clutch her head, wincing. “I’m feeling dead on my feet.”

“I feel like I’m ready to collapse as soon as I sit down.” His head pounded like oni took turns slamming each side with warhammers. Looking back to Shujin, he said, “I’ll see what I can find tomorrow. Want me to message you if I find anything?” 

Ann hesitated, then looked to the bruise darkening on his face. “If I can’t trust you after that, who can I trust?” Taking her phone out, they exchanged contact information. Glancing up at the sky, deep crimson giving way to purple, she gaped. “It’s _that_ late? I am _so_ dead!”

She dashed back inside the school and Akira followed at a more measured pace.

**Author's Note:**

> As with any of my works, a skill is nothing if not challenged. If you see any mistakes or potential ways to improve the writing, in specific or in general, I welcome constructive criticism.


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